Wendy Darling
by Literarylunatic
Summary: Wendy Darling is living in 1944, London. She is under pressure from her parents to conform to the expectations of her gender and age. She would much rather tell her stories. Tales of courage, bravery, and adventure. She meets a boy her parents would be happy with but the boy who has been watching from the window doesn't want her with him.
1. Chapter 1

This is the retelling of Peter Pan that I have always wanted to read. Wendy Darling is living in 1944, London. She is under pressure from her parents to conform to the expectations of being the eldest. And a girl. She would much rather tell her stories to her younger brothers. Tales of courage, bravery, and adventure.

Her brother's, John, and Michael, are no different. John with his head in his books and Michael who has a disorder his parents can't hope to understand.

Life begins to change for Wendy when she meets a boy at John's birthday party that their parents hold. Isaac is sweet, thoughtful, and most importantly, someone her parents approve of. But Wendy has to someone she's not when she's with him. She can't tell him her stories, not without fear of him running to his horrible mother. Who would then tell hers.

But one boy does. A boy who has been listening to her stories for some time. A boy who isn't happy to hear about her new boyfriend. Or about how she might stop telling her stories.

But since the war is threatening to tear their family apart, Mr and Mrs Darling decide to send the children to their aunt in the country. But if that happens, Peter won't know how to find her. His Wendy. So, he takes her away.

This is the first chapter and my first ever time publishing on fanfiction. Please be kind in your reviews! Chapter Two will be up soon.

Chapter One:

"He hides behind a large rock. Waiting for his moment to strike. Quietly, patiently… Until… BANG!"

Michael Darling jumps slightly in his seat before smiling and listening again.

"Eric fires the canon at the sea witch. But nothing happens… not until…" Wendy Darling clutches her side and pretends to be injured. " _You bastard._ The sea witch hisses. _You bastard, you could have killed me_. In her rage she reaches for the mermaid that Eric so dearly loves-"

"No!" Michael roars. Wendy smiles wickedly.

" _Oh yes. I'll take your little mermaid. Only she's not a mermaid now… I wonder if she'll grow back her gills at the bottom of the ocean."_ Wendy stalks toward her brother until a wooden sword blocks her path.

" _You'll have to take me first."_ John Darling swings his wooden play sword back around behind him. He tries to get into a fencing stance, but Wendy has beat him to it, having grabbed another sword off the floor of their nursery.

"Have at it!" She yells and swings the sword at his. John blocks the attack and they begin to spar; laughing while they do. Michael cheers quietly from the side-lines.

"You're mine!" John shouts victoriously as he pulls back his sword and goes for her chest. Wendy considers conceding victory, but decides against it as she parries his attack, sending his sword flying.

"Ow. Wendy!" John mumbles, clutching his fingers that she must have nicked.

" _Who is Wendy? I know of no such girl. You shall die now, Eric!"_ She lunges at him, abandoning the sword. They crash together, giggling as they wrestle on the floor. Michael stands to the side. "Get in here you rascal." Wendy says and pulls him to the floor with them. Michael climbs on top of John, trying to aid his sister.

"Ow. Michael, who's side are you on?"

Michael only smiles as he tries to climb on John's back. Wendy laughs and together, they bring John to the floor once again.

" _You thought you could beat me? Not when I have my trusty shark to aid me."_ Wendy winks at Michael and he giggles more, happy to be involved.

"What… What in heavens name is this!?"

Mrs Darling stands at the entry to the nursery. Hands on her small hips. The normally grand nursery is in a complete state of disrepair; with toys everywhere, books knocked on the floor from all the commotion, and her three children. She takes them in. Michael, still in his school uniform, in a headlock with John whose glasses are askew on his head, his messy dark brown hair sticking up at every angle. And her only daughter, Wendy. Wendy was usually a remarkable sight with long dark curls and sharp, intelligent blue eyes. Now she looks…

"Get up this instance!" All three children scramble to their feet. Wendy pulls her night dress down, as it had ridden well above her knees. "Is this how my children chose to behave? Like common street urchins?"

Wendy's eyes flash and she opens her mouth to argue, but before she can, Mrs Darling says "I don't even want to hear it. Wendy, go to your room."

"But-"

"Now!" Mrs Darling raises her eyebrow. Wendy, knowing how useless it is to object to her mother when she is like this looks to her brothers and mouths _I'll finish the story tomorrow._ They both grin at her and she moves to leave the room.

Mrs Darling follows her out and closes the large wooden door behind them both. This angers Wendy. _So, I suppose I'm to get the lecture and not them?_ She shakes her head and they walk to her bedroom in silence. They live in a large terrace house, thanks to Mr Darling who holds a high position at the bank, so it takes them a minute to reach her room. Wendy contemplates what she will say to her mother, but what can she? They have this argument almost every night. She would simply sound like a broken record if she was to give her usual spiel to her mother. But to her surprise, her mother says nothing as she enters Wendy's room. Wendy stops, uncertain, before going in and waiting.

"Wendy, sit please."

"I'd rather stand." Wendy replies, nervous.

Her mother sighs and wipes her face. Very out of character, considering how put together she normally is. This puts Wendy even more on edge. Bad news must be coming.

"Wendy please. Just sit down." Her mother commands and, with a snap, Wendy sits. "Thank you." She takes a deep breath. "Wendy dear, your father and I feel… we feel it is time for you to enter society. You are fifteen years old and the only reason we've waited so long to announce you as eligible is because you've always been… well childish. We thought you might grow out of it, but tonight has proven otherwise. Times are tough as you know, with the war and what not, but… As you know, John's birthday is coming up. Now, Mrs Burton is coming tomorrow to fashion you a dress worthy of a lady. There will be all sorts of people at the party. Good people of course. It would suit you well to acquaint yourself with them."

When all that follows is silence, Mrs Darling looks to her daughter, surprised at the lack of objection this announcement has received.

Wendy stares at her mother. _Eligible? Childish? Dress?_ She can't even comprehend all the catastrophes this implies.

"But… Eligible? You can't mean… You want me to marry?" Wendy asks, aghast.

"Well, not right away of course. You are still young. But you can certainly begin to ponder such things. You can't tell me you've never thought of boys before, Wendy. Now honestly."

Wendy thinks about this. She's definitely noticed boys before. But never in a formal situation. Never had she seriously considered the boys as potential partners. Why would she need to? She was perfectly happy with the way things were. She says as much.

"I don't want any of this, mother! I like how I am. I like telling my stories and performing. Can things not just stay how they are?"

Her mother's face hardens.

"Certainly not. We've let you indulge in those fantasies far too much as it is. It's time for you to be taken seriously. As a woman."

"I am a woman?" Wendy asks in confusion.

Mrs Darling arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"You are no such thing. Right now, you are a girl. But don't worry, tomorrow begins your first step towards being a woman."

Wendy's eyes widen in alarm.

"It is nothing to fear, my dear Wendy. This is exciting!" Wendy looks incredulous and her mother chuckles softly. "Really, you look as if I have sentenced you to the gallows."

"Haven't you?" Wendy asks without much venom.

"Everything will work itself out, Wendy. Do not worry yourself too much. You are a beautiful girl. Any suitor would be lucky to court you."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Wendy grumbles and looks out the window of her bedroom. The night sky seems peaceful as she stares out and Wendy can't help but want to be out there. Out experiencing the world and all it has to offer her. Anywhere but here.

"I know it seems scary. But have no fear, my dear child. You will find happiness."

Wendy seriously doubts this but says nothing else as her mother bends to kiss her on the forehead. She goes to close the curtains next to her bed.

"No! Leave them open… please?" Wendy asks. Ever since she was little, Wendy preferred to have the curtains open so that she could look out. She liked to imagine all the places she could be. Her mother looks at her for a moment before smiling softly.

"As you wish." She says before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Wendy clutches her knees to her chest as she looks out to the night. So inviting to her naive mind.

If she'd known what waited for her, all of the battles, troubles, and hardships she would face. Would she be as eager? Perhaps if she'd known the boy who would lead her through all of it… Would she have done anything differently?


	2. Chapter 2

**This is a longer one. Wendy meets new faces, and some stand out. One in particular…**

 **Chapter Two:**

"Breathe in I tell you. Come now, you're not even trying." Mrs Burton wails unrelentingly.

This damn woman. What would she know of breathing in? Her stomach is three times the size of mine.

"Surely breathing in defeats the purpose of fitting clothing to a person. It means it won't really fit them." Wendy mutters to herself. Mrs Burton hears anyway.

"Nonsense. It keeps everything in." She states happily.

"Are you quite sure of that?" Wendy asks, her eyes on the other woman's stomach. Mrs Burton's mouth falls open.

"Well I never-"

"Thank you, Mrs Burton. That is quite enough. You've been just wonderful. Do you have all the measurements you need to start the garment?" Her mother cuts in expertly.

"Well… I suppose I do." The other woman stutters out.

"Excellent. You've been just wonderful. Shall I show you the way out? Best to get started immediately." She ushers Mrs Burton out of the room, leaving Wendy to her thoughts.

This is just ridiculous. This whole thing was just ridiculous. I don't know if I can bear any more.

Wendy steps down from the small stool she had been stood on and stumbles slightly, tripping over some of the leftover pins on the floor. She hears a deep chuckle at her clumsiness and she turns to look for whichever brother saw her stumble. But neither were there. And neither had such a deep voice. She spins to face the window and a shadow just disappears from view. This gives Wendy pause. She is on the second floor of her house. No could be outside. Not at this height. She tries to rush to see what was there, but once again falls victim to the pins on the floor. One, where the needle was facing upright, finds its way into her big toe and she cries out. Her first instinct is to clutch at it and hop and howl in pain, but she knows that this would only event in her standing on more. So she settles for profanities instead.

"God damn it! Son of a-"

"Watch your language, Wendy!"

Wendy looks guiltily to her mother who has just reappeared in the doorway with her usual stern expression. This switches to alarm as Michael brushes past her knees to enter the sitting room.

"No! Michael don't-" Wendy tries to warn him. But from the distressed look on his freckled face, it is clear he already has at least one pin in his little feet. Ignoring her own pain, she rushes forward and picks him up.

"And he gets snared in the hideous huntsman's trap! But he is far too brave to cry… because he knows that his bestest friend needs him to be strong. For it is Nana that has been captured by the horrible huntsman."

Michael sniffles a little and looks around for said Dog. Nana was there family pet and Michael has a special soft spot for her as she normally stays with him even when the rest of the family is busy. Wendy is shocked that the dog is not with him now but sure enough, Nana trots in past Mrs Darling, tongue hanging out, and pants up at Michael. He swallows the tears and smiles down at her, reaching his hands out to pet her from his position in Wendy's arms. She gently places him on the floor and, quickly, pops the pin out of his foot. He is suitably distracted however and does not notice as he wraps his arms around Nana's wide frame.

"But alas, the brave boy prevails and rescues his noble friend." Wendy smiles a little and pats Nana's head herself and picks the pin out of her own foot.

Mrs Darling observes this interaction with a small frown on her face before calling their maid to clean the pins from the floor. Wendy questions the need for the maid; they were struggling enough due to the war and she knew how the only reason they could still afford this lifestyle was due to her father's high position in the bank. He was under particular stress at the moment as it had been at least two days since she had even seen him. He returns from work late in the night, only to return in the early hours of the morning. The maid was a luxury that they could do without, but her mother would never hear of it. In her mind, it was one of the few things that separated the upper class from the common.

It wasn't that Wendy didn't appreciate the life she had been given, it was more that she didn't feel she needed it. As long as she had her family and her family and her stories. She looks around the sitting room that is so familiar to her. It might seem grand to some with the large fire place, stylish furniture and raised ceiling. But Wendy can see the flaws, the nicks in wood, the scratches on the floor that her mother has desperately tried to cover up. She meets her mother's eyes, notes the lines that circle them. Lines that were never there before. Wendy takes in a small breath as she suddenly understands why her mother suddenly felt the need to announce Wendy as eligible. They need money. And they need it soon. They want her to marry into a good family. One that could help them.

Wendy takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. This she can do. If this is all she can do help her family. She would.

Over the next few days, Wendy tries to throw herself into the party preparations with more enthusiasm. She listens to her mother drone on about the different flower arrangements they could use, the appetisers they would serve to guests, the appropriate topics of conversation she should engage in. She listened to all of this without complaint. Well… much. She could not change overnight. She had not even had any of her usual lessons due to all of the commotion of the party. This was a welcome change.

The dressmaker returns the day before the party with the finished dress. It was a light blue, soft material that felt strange to touch. It flattered her small stomach and flared slightly at the waist and flowed out to her shins, as was the fashion. A white bow was being fastened around her waist and Wendy struggles not to fidget.

"Oh Wendy… You look just… beautiful. Like a true lady." Her mother says as he showcases a rare smile. Wendy, unsure of how to take the compliment simply looks down at her feet. She wiggles her toes and her mother takes a step towards her. She takes her chin in her hand and breathes "look at yourself, my dear."

Wendy looks down at her feet again before looking to the mirror that had been placed against the wall. She didn't understand the fascination. It was just a dress. She still looks like herself. Just more feminine. More like her mother.

 _No. No. I can't go in there. I won't._

Wendy peers around the door once again before quickly snapping back to hide in the safety of the hallway. It is the day of the party and there were just so many people. People that Wendy doesn't know. She sneaks another glance through the crack in the door and smiles slightly. _At least Michael and John look as uncomfortable as I am._ She then feels guilty for that thought. She shouldn't take joy in their misery. But she can't help but feel slightly nullified that she wasn't alone in this.

"Umm… Excuse me, can I enter that room please?"

Wendy jumps; alarmed that she wasn't alone as she had originally thought. Without even looking at the owner of the voice she says

"Yes. Of course… Go on in. Be my guest. Feel free-"

"Thank you." He laughs, interrupting her listing the varying ways to say that someone can enter a room. She looks up at him then, slightly put back by his laughter. A boy about her own age stage before her. His dark brown curls slightly cover his equally dark eyes that twinkle with humour. His eyes leave hers for the slightest appraisal of her and Wendy can't help but blush. This was very unlike her. But this was the first time being so close to a boy her own age. Being so close and… alone.

"Well, I best head in myself. It was nice to meet you Mr…"

"Graham. Isaac Graham. I assure you, it's my pleasure." He sweeps her hand into an endearing, albeit practiced move and kisses her hand softly. Unsure of what she was supposed to do, Wendy simply nods, spins, and enters the drawing room.

The room quietens at her entrance, but she doesn't allow this to affect her. She moves immediately to her brothers who are sat together on the sofa towards the side of the room. They both smile when they see her, clearly relieved at no longer being alone.

"I see you two are fitting in well." She teases.

"Considering this is the first time we've seen you, I do not think you are faring much better." John retorts with a smirk. Wendy moves to sit but, catching her mother's eye from across the room and seeing the quick shake of her head, she awkwardly stands straight again.

Mrs Darling glides across the room to her children and holds out her hand for Wendy to take. She does so, reluctantly. This was the part she was dreading the most.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The room quietens once again as everyone turns to face Mrs Darling. "Thank you ever so much for joining us on this fine day to celebrate my eldest son's birthday." She smiles down at John who sinks back into his seat. "But I would also like to thank those of you who came to meet my fine daughter. As you can see, she is truly a sight to behold-"

"She's alike her mother in that respect." Says a voice that Wendy did not expect to hear. She goes to move towards her father but is held in place by the vice like grip her mother holds on her. Her father's tired eyes miss nothing. Mr Darling smiles at his only daughter and moves toward her himself and wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Hello Wendy-bird." He whispers as he presses a kiss to her head.

"Hello father!" She whispers back, elated.

Mrs Darling smiles at seeing her husband but is unperturbed in her mission.

"Thank you dear. As I was saying, this is Wendy's first entrance into proper society." She waits for the polite clapping that has begun to end before saying "Thank you. Please don't let me interrupt you anymore. Enjoy the party!"

Wendy begins to think her part is done before her mother sweeps her off to meet all of the party guests. Wendy doesn't even attempt to remember the names of everyone she meets, so she simply gives them nicknames: frumpy moustache, grump beard, pinched lips, smelly breath boy, pencil eyebrows, dirty tash, and oily boy. Currently she was listening to pinched lips try to sell her son to her.

"He received top marks on his latest essay in school. You should listen to how his teachers dote on him." She barks out a loud fake laugh that snaps Wendy out of her day dream. "He is well known among his friends as being greatly amusing. Go on son, tell her one of your famed jokes." She looks down at her son who stood a head smaller than even Wendy who was slight herself.

Oily boy's eyebrows shoot up in alarm. When he says nothing, his mother nudges him slightly. "Go on William."

"Umm… I-"

"Wendy dear!" Her mother calls; interrupting whatever the poor boy was about to say. Wendy smiles at the boy in sympathy before going to see what her mother wants. She stands next to a tall boy. A tall boy with dark hair and midnight eyes.

"You!" She blurts before her mother can introduce them.

"You've met?" She asks with an eyebrow raised. It would be considered improper for Wendy to have met a boy without someone around.

"Umm…"

"Very briefly. I had the pleasure of meeting your daughter in the hall. I'm afraid I was a little late to your party." Isaac admits smoothly. Wendy smirks, expecting her mother to disapprove of his tardiness. Instead she smiles.

"Not at all! Wendy was also a little late so not to worry. I assume you have already introduced yourselves then?"

When he does not speak, Wendy weakly replies "Yes, mother. We-"

"Excellent. So you know he is the son of Mr Edward Graham?" Mrs Darling gave Wendy a meaningful look. _Huh? Am I supposed to know who that… Oh._

"From the bank?" Wendy asks; already knowing the answer. This was why her mother was being so overtly friendly to an almost stranger. This boy is the son of father's boss at the bank.

"That would be him." Isaac mutters distantly. His eyes have begun to drift over the party guests. Mrs Darling desperately tries to regain his attention.

"You are quite right Wendy. He is handsome." She says conspiratorially. Wendy's eyes snap to her mother's; outraged. When had she said such a thing? Even hinted at it? They then snap to Isaac's, who seems equally surprised at this admission.

"I… What?" Wendy stutters. Her mother gives an unconvincing fake laugh.

"There is no need to be shy, my dear. Honesty is the most valued trait in a partner." She bites out the last part of the sentence with an exaggerated smile. _Oh. Oh no. She wants me to… with him?_ Wendy looks him over Isaac once again. He wasn't bad, she supposed. Handsome, but perhaps a little arrogant.

He begins to smirk at her appraisal of him and puffs his chest out marginally; not minding being studied. _Yes… Definitely arrogant._

"You're right, mother. Which is why I must admit to never saying such a thing about this gentleman." Wendy says with a small smile. _Hah._ Mrs Darling intakes sharply and begins to splutter, but this was her fault. She shouldn't lie on her behalf so boldly. She then remembers her promise to herself to give this all a chance and sighs. "But I suppose you could be considered… handsome. By some." She admits.

Isaac's smile, which had begun to slip, slides right back into his typical crooked smile.

"You're too kind, Miss Wendy. I must return the compliment and say that, to some, you might be considered beautiful… radiant even."

Wendy gapes at him whilst her mother practically faints. _How can he say such things with a straight face?_ It must all be a mask, she decides. No one could say something like that seriously. Wendy had never heard of such a speech except for in one of John's books. The romantic ones he says he is not interested in.

"Isaac? We must take our leave, my son." A deep voice that must belong to his father calls.

"It was delightful to meet you both." Isaac says smiling at her mother first before his dark eyes move to hers. "Truly". He smiles at her, his first seemingly genuine one of the evening. Not wanting him to have the last word, Wendy blurts;

"And you Isaac. I mean, Mr Isaac." His smiles changes back to a smirk at her stumble and he nods before turning to leave with his father.

"Well that was… better than we ever could have hoped. Oh Wendy, he's just perfect!"

Wendy did not exactly share her sentiments and so elects to stay silent. The other guests seem to take their ques from the Graham's and so begin to depart as well and Wendy can't help but feel relieved.

The rest of the day passes mostly with just helping to clean up. By the time night falls, Wendy, John, and Michael are in their usual spot. The nursery. John and Michael are sat together on the floor whilst Wendy begins another one of her stories. This one followed an ambitious boy who had grown a whole giant beanstalk on his farm.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum,

I smell the blood of an Englishman,

Be he alive, or be he dead

I'll have his bones to grind my bread."

"Ewww. Wendy…" Michael complains, interrupting her.

"But Jack's mother begged him to never climb up again. But Jack said just one more time and that will be the end. He crept up to the giant who was playing a magic harp and quickly snatched the axe without a sound. He quickly scurries back to his mum who was very worried." Wendy struggled to remember the poem she has read in one of her old fairy tale books.

"One blow with the axe down under

The giant fell with a crash like thunder

Jack said look mum…" There was a creak near the door and she spotted her mother standing against it, just as she had last night.

"The giant's gone. The end." She finished quickly.

"Huh? That's it?" John exclaims, not having spotted their mother.

"Yes! Now off to bed with you both." Her brother's both gave her perplexed expressions.

"She's right boys. To bed with both of you!" Mrs Darling claps and they both shoot to their feet and grumble simultaneously:

"Yes mother."

Wendy smiles at them and shoots out of the room before her mother can try and corner her to talk about Isaac some more. It was the only thing she seemed capable of mentioning at all today. She closes the door behind her once she reaches her bedroom, sighing. Her gaze travels her bedroom and she smiles. Her haven. With all her pretty white furniture and the soft blue bed.

She moves towards it and climbs over it to reach the window. It was a rather humid day today so she plans to sleep with it open tonight.

She settles snuggly into her bed and rests her eyes. Her mind begins to wonder to how she really would have ended Jack and the beanstalk. There needed to be more battles. More fighting. Perhaps he dies? John always liked the unexpected endings…

A movement above her pulls her from her light sleep and she looks up into two green eyes looking down at her.

 **Yup. You guessed it. She meets Peter in the next chapter. Feel free to leave a review of this chapter as obviously quite a lot happens.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it has been so long since the last chapter. I've just finished uni. But now I'm back and want to upload more frequently. Thanks for your reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Chapter Three:**

Wendy's eyes do not seem to focus for a moment. There seems to be a boy on top of her. Well, not on top of her. He wasn't touching her at all; instead he was floating above her.

She blinks, and the boy's eyes widen suddenly. He floats upward quickly and flattens his hands out on the roof of her room as he hits it. The impact makes him curse and his deep voice snaps Wendy out of her stupor. _There is a boy in my room._ She thinks. She opens her mouth, but before any noise can escape his hand is covering her mouth. He looks toward the door, as if waiting for someone to burst in. Her heart tightens in panic, but before she can throw him off her he is flying out of her room. She lies uselessly in her bed for a moment as she gapes at her open window. She scrambles up and all but smashes her face against the window, trying to catch a glimpse at whoever that was. But she sees nothing. Nothing that could rationalise what her eyes had just seen. She scans the street below her for the body that should be lying there. She lives on the third floor of their London town house and he shouldn't have been able to move, let alone run after falling from that height. Her childish mind whispers that he must have flown away, and Wendy only briefly entertains this impossible concept as her eyes scan the sky. She quickly chastises herself. _Don't be ludicrous, Wendy._

She sinks back down onto her bed, pushing her brown waves out of her face. She must simply be tired. _That's all it could be. You've had a long day._ She thinks to herself. But even as she begins to believe her own words, she can't pretend that she didn't feel his breath on her face, his hands on her mouth. Or convince herself that her imagination could conjure up a face as breath-taking as his. Even if she saw it only briefly.

The next day, Wendy goes about her morning monotonously, her mind never drifting far from the previous night. She hadn't wanted to forget his face, and so she had attempted to sketch it as soon as she woke. However, her horrific drawing skills soon put that idea to rest and she had to be content with just her memory. But despite only seeing it last night, she had already begun to forget it and filling in the gaps herself. What had really stuck in her brain were his eyes. They were such a striking colour green that Wendy has never seen before.

"Wendy?"

Wendy glances up from the book she hadn't been reading to see John. She smiles, and he briefly returns it before he turns serious.

"Mother is looking for you. She is in a foul mood this morning."

"When isn't she lately?" She sighs. "I suppose I better face the cavalry." She places the book onto the table next to her and John expresses a rare grin when he sees the cover.

"The Hobbit? You've finally started reading it?"

She looks away from his face guiltily. She hadn't gotten past the first sentence.

"Umm… Yes. I'm enjoying it a lot."

"I thought you might. Which dwarf is your favourite?"

"Dwarf?" She asks. "I-"

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling!"

They both instinctively flinch and turn to face her. Wendy plasters a smile on her face.

"Mother! There you are. I've been looking for you. I was going to ask-"

"Not now, Wendy. You know of my book club, yes?"

"Yes…" Wendy trails off, struggling to see the significance of this. Her mother's book club was simply an excuse for Mrs Darling and her friends to gossip over wine.

"You know we meet on Monday nights, yes?"

"I… Yes…" Wendy says again, still not catching on.

"Tonight, is that night. And do you know who has requested to join?"

"Umm…" Wendy casts John a look to see if he knew what their mother is getting at, but he looks as puzzled as her.

"Elizabeth Graham!" She pauses for impact. Wendy immediately understands her mother's mood.

"Oh… Isaac's mother?"

"Who's Isaac?" John asks, confused.

Wendy opens her mouth to answer but Mrs Darling interrupts.

"Someone very important to Wendy, John!"

"Hardly." Wendy scoffs. Her mother shoots her a sharp look.

"I want none of that lip tonight. She will probably wish to meet you. And you are going to act as if he is the moon to your sea. The stars to your sky. The-"

"I get it, Mother. The sun shines out of his ars-"

"Wendy! What did I just say about your sass?" Her stern blue eyes shine as they glare at Wendy.

"Sorry, Mother." She says in defeat. John laughs a little before covering it with a cough. Mrs Darling ignores it.

"We must find a suitable dress before tonight. Not too dressed up, mind you. We don't want her to think we're desperate for her approval. But the fact that she is coming at all means that Isaac must have mentioned you."

Her mother carries on, discussing her dress options more but Wendy focuses on that last little titbit of information. _Isaac mentioned me?_ Frankly, Wendy had put Isaac out of her mind. Whilst he was good-looking, he reminded her too much of some of the arrogant heroes in John's books. His moved had seemed a little too practised. But if he had mentioned Wendy to his mother, maybe he liked her more than he let on? Wendy somehow doubted it. Her mother's shrill voice brought her back to reality.

"What about this one? Oh, if only we had time to make you a dress. It will have to do. I have to get the house tidy!" They were now in Wendy's room and Mrs Darling puts the simple green dress she had been holding back into the wardrobe before rushing out of the room.

Wendy moves to follow but hears a sound coming from her window. Not wanting to miss a single glimpse of what could be there, she rushes to her bed and clambers onto it before staring out the window. A very spooked pigeon that had been sat on the outer frame quickly flies away. Wendy sighs, cursing herself for indulging her imagination once again. Somewhere in the house, a grandfather clock chimes two o'clock and Wendy glances once more at the window before heading to her tutor.

"Father, I don't see why I have to be here. I'm not the one who is trying to impress Mrs Mayhem." John grumbles, fiddling with the top button on his shirt.

"It's Mrs Graham, John. And we all must do our part to look our best. For the sake of this family, and our future." Mr Darling says kindly, but sternly. "Now chin up. They'll be here soon."

"Not all of Mother's friends are coming, are they?" Wendy asks in apprehension. She couldn't stand some of them. Mother always seemed to become a worse version of herself when they came.

"No. Some of them… couldn't make it. Whilst Mr Graham and his son are known for their upstanding behaviour… Mrs Graham… Well let's just say she isn't everyone's favourite lady."

This admission only made Wendy's anxiety worse. She had to remind herself she isn't trying to impress her.

The doorbell chimes and Mrs Darling suddenly appears.

"Best behaviour. All of you!" She hisses at John and Wendy before a mask of pleasantness slips into place. She opens the door and an extremely plump woman known as Helena Wilson breezes in.

"It's just me, Mary. I take it Mrs Graham has not arrived yet?"

Everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Not yet, Helena. But I have no doubt she'll be here soon. The Graham's aren't known for their tardiness." Mrs Darling says, brushing down her skirt and closing the door behind her.

"I'll just take myself to the drawing room." Mrs Wilson moves past Mr and Mrs Darling before pausing in front of Wendy. "You look lovely, dear. Shame my boy wasn't good enough for you." She says in a falsely pleasant voice before leaving for the drawing room. Wendy didn't even have a moment to process that jibe before the doorbell chimes again.

Mrs Darling opens the front door once again and Wendy could immediately recognise this as Mrs Graham. She shared the same jet-black hair and striking blue eyes. She was tall and thin; so thin that her collarbones were poking out of her chest sharply. Her cold eyes drift over Mr and Mrs Darling briefly.

"Good Evening! I hope you had a pleasant journey." Mrs Graham says nothing. "Please… Please do come in." Mrs Darling ushers her in and closes the door.

Suddenly the entrance to the Darling's townhouse, which Wendy had always felt was rather large, felt suffocating.

"Are these your children then?" Mrs Graham studies Michael for only a moment before focusing on Wendy. Her eyes travel up and down her and Wendy does her best not to fidget. "You are Wendy?"

"Yes, Mrs Graham. It's… It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Wendy dares not look into her eyes. Mrs Graham takes her time appraising her before finally nodding.

"The pleasure is mine… Wendy." She rolls the name over in her mouth. Mrs Darling finally intervenes.

"Shall we head to the drawing room? I fear we have left dear Helena on her own for too long." She leads the way and begins to engage Mrs Graham in small talk. Wendy releases a huge breath and her father squeezes her shoulder comfortingly.

"Good job, Wendy-bird." He kisses her head and follows the two women.

The next hour passes slowly with Mrs Darling and Mrs Wilson leading most of the conversations whilst Wendy carefully avoids eye-contact with Mrs Graham. _What a frightful woman_. Wendy can't help but think to herself. She hasn't stopped staring at Wendy, pausing only when someone else tries to include her on the conversation.

Finally, Mrs Graham excuses herself. It couldn't come a moment sooner, Wendy wasn't sure her mother had it in her to smile for much longer.

"You'll come again soon, I hope?" Mrs Darling says at the door. Mrs Graham peers at her before looking to Wendy.

"I should think not." She says sharply. Mrs Darling gasps quietly. "You'll have to come to our estate."

Mrs Darling practically squeals.

"Of course! Nothing would make us happier."

"Hmm." Mrs Graham casts one final disdainful look around their house. "Good night."

Not the Devil himself could have stopped Mrs Darling from ordering Wendy four new dresses and putting her through the torture of etiquette lessons. Any complaints Wendy had fell on deaf ears. Mrs Graham had sent a telegram with an invitation for afternoon tea in two days. This of course meant that Wendy had to go through all of this misery.

"But she liked me, Mother. Why do I need to go through all this?"

"She liked the look of you Wendy. Now you must impress her and show you're suitable for her son."

Wendy sighs for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Wendy was also upset that she had seen no sign of the green-eyed boy at all. It made the whole thing feel more like a delusion.

The night before tea at the Graham's, Wendy slumps into her bed; exhausted from the hours upon hours of etiquette lessons and dress fittings. She didn't even bother changing into her nightdress. She simply crawled into bed in her underclothes. It feels as if her eyes only just shut when she hears a bang in her room. She sits up quickly, drowsily trying to find the source of the noise. A few of the titles on her bookshelf had fallen on the floor and Wendy begins to lie back down when a movement to her right stops her. She turns the light on next to her bed and sees him.

He stands next to the door looking unsure of himself. In this light, what strikes Wendy first, absurdly, are his clothes. He is simply wearing shirt and trousers, no shoes. But that isn't what shocks her. He is _filthy_. Utterly filthy. Dirt covers every inch of his clothing; as if he hasn't washed them in weeks. Her eyes drift up to his face and she feels foolish for focusing for so long on his clothing. He was the most handsome boy Wendy has ever seen. His hair itself was like spun gold, each thread falling perfectly, weaving together into curls that framed his tanned face. If this was anyone else, Wendy would have laughed at herself for just describing his hair as "spun gold" in her head. But then she meets his eyes. He seemed to be appraising her just as much as she was him. He stands a little taller and grins.

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. I'm trying to make the world bigger. Next chapter should be coming soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's chapter four. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter Four:

"Who… Who are you?" The boy's grin widens, and he opens his mouth to answer but Wendy isn't finished. "What are you doing here? How? How are you in here?"

He says nothing a moment, as if waiting to see if she's done. He holds her stare as he says, "Which of those questions do you want me to answer?"

His voice is deeper than Wendy expects, and she looks over him again. She can't seem to stop appraising him. _Now is not the time!_ She scolds herself.

"Any of them. I mean all of them! And do so quickly, or I'll scream."

The threat doesn't seem to bother him, and he makes himself comfortable on the floor next to her mirror.

"Well, I was flying past your window just the other night and-"

"Flying?" Wendy confirms, aghast.

"Indeed." He says as if this wasn't important, before continuing. "As I was saying, I was flying past your home and noticed that you seem to have a few spare wooden swords. Now you can only imagine my delight as my boys have broken all the practice swords." He heaves a dramatic sigh and glances at Wendy beneath his dark lashes and smiles conspiratorially; as if they were in on some joke. "I couldn't stop right then as I had other things to do. So tonight, I returned but couldn't remember which window was the correct one. So I tried this one and flew in. See? You're all caught up."

Wendy gaped at him. _How can he say any of this with a straight face_?

"You…" Wendy struggles for words.

"Oh of course!" He snaps his fingers and stands. Wendy jumps a little at the sudden movement. He grins at her, his eyes flashing. "How could I forget the most important part?"

Wendy waits for him to explain any of what he had mentioned before; an explanation for any of this.

"Peter."

 _Huh?_ "Excuse me?"

He looks at Wendy as if she is a little slow. Wendy can't even blame him. It was taking longer than usual for Wendy's brain to catch up with what he was saying.

"My name… It's Peter." He says. He moves carefully towards her, stepping over the clothes on her floor that she hadn't bothered to put away. Wendy shrinks back on her bed, enough so her back hits the wall. He stops, looking slightly offended at her blatant fear of him. He recovers quickly. He smiles at her and it was contagious.

What is wrong with me? Why on earth am I smiling at him? But Wendy couldn't help it. He has the kind of smile that is infectious. All teeth and mischief.

"I'm Wendy." She says eventually. She couldn't see the point in screaming. If he wanted to hurt her, he could have by now.

His eyes light up after she speaks and laughs.

"What's funny about my name?" She asks, confused.

"Nothing… and everything. What is life without laughter?" He answers non-committedly and Wendy knew that she would rarely get a straight answer out of him about anything. She was at a loss for what to do. She had never had a boy in her room other than her brothers and father. She wasn't sure what etiquette dictates in the rare situation that a strange boy flies into your room at night.

She realises she's been staring at him again and averts her eyes from him, but he does no such thing. His eyes seem to bore into Wendy's soul; seeing everything she hides from the world.

"So…" Wendy trails off, unsure of what she was going to say to begin with. He laughs again.

"So…" He mimics, grinning again. He seemed to be completely at ease in her room.

"You… you should go." She says, knowing it's the only thing that can happen now. He had flown into her room by mistake… So shouldn't he be leaving? His grin dims.

"You want me to leave?" He asks, disappointed.

"Well you can't stay here! What if someone comes in?"

He thinks over this for a moment.

"I'll come back tomorrow!"

Wendy almost laughed. _Is he hearing anything I'm saying?_

"You can't!"

He only smiles at her and unlocks the latch on her window before opening it. He leans out and looked back at her once more. He repeats this action a few more times seeming reluctant. Her already non-existent patience was running thin. She shoos him with her hands. He winks and jumped out of the window. Wendy climbs onto her bed and tries to find him in the sky but, once again, finds no trace of him. Her eyes scan the stars and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Boo!"

Wendy squeaks in shock and bangs her head on the bottom of the window frame. Peter floats above her head, laughing hysterically clutching his stomach. He was only a few inches away from her and she tries to swat at his leg, but he dodges her, laughing harder.

"You're going to have to try harder than that to-"

"Wendy? Are you awake?"

Wendy's eyes snap to Peter's in panic and, without so much as a goodbye, she leans back and slams the window shut.

Michael opens the door to her room and then stands with an arm over his face. Not daring to check to see if Peter was gone, she rushes to her bedroom door and crouches down to Michael.

"Is… Is everything alright, Michael?" She asks, breathless.

"There was a… a voice. I-" He interrupts himself with his own yawn and Wendy freezes. "I was scared." He begins to rub sleep from his eyes and her heart softens. She reaches out and smooths his hair.

"You were scared for me? How noble of you." She teases lightly. She picks his small frame up and carries him over to her bed. It wasn't unusual for Michael to wake in the middle of the night and come into her room, so they had formed an almost routine. "I suppose you had better stay and look after me then."

Michael nods and makes himself comfortable in her bed. She smiles at how her bed seems to swallow him before lying next to him. He snuggles into her and she wraps an arm around his middle, squeezing lightly before relaxing. Her eyes drift to her window, but she could see no trace of Peter.

 _Stupid. Foolish. Completely idiotic._ Wendy chastises herself. _What was I thinking?_ Letting her mother pick her dress without so much as glancing at it was the reason she looked like a frilly lemon meringue pie. John had said as much when he'd seen her, and she couldn't even find it in her to get defensive because, why? It describes her appearance perfectly. She could only hope that Isaac had gone temporarily blind today and wouldn't witness her humiliation. This hope persists all the way through the long drive to the Graham's estate. Her mind drifts back to the previous night before Wendy shakes herself out of it. She needs to focus on the present. She didn't really believe he would be back tonight after all.

Wendy looks to her right briefly and sees that her mother's fidgeting overshadows even her own. _What does she have to be nervous about? She doesn't look like she was fresh out of a baker's oven._ Her mother had barely spoken a word to her since they had gotten into the car.

Wendy sighs and looks out of the window. The scenery had begun to shift from London's bleak buildings to a blur of green trees that framed the road they drove along. It had been miles since they had seen another house and when the car begins to slow both Wendy and her mother tense. The sound of wheels churning over pebbles suggests that they were heading onto a more residential road and Wendy's eyes widen as she takes in the ginormous house that was coming into view.

"Oh… Wendy…" Mrs Darling's voice sounding as flabbergasted as Wendy felt. It wasn't a secret that the Graham's came from money, but this is just ridiculous. Wendy's London townhouse looked like a dollhouse next to this mansion. It could probably fit five of their house in it. It had at least 3 balconies looking over the pond that was out the front of the house for God's sake.

The car slows to a halt outside the front door and neither Mrs Darling nor Wendy moved to get out. The door was opened for them by an attendant and Wendy gathers her resolve and shuffles out. _I shouldn't be intimidated by this. So, they have money. They are still just people._ Wendy stands tall and chooses to look at the pond rather than the looming house. Her mother is not too far behind however she still seemed too engrossed with the Graham's mansion to look anywhere else.

"If you would please follow me. Mrs Graham is expecting you in the rose garden."

 _They have a rose garden?_

Wendy turns to follow the person who she assumed was their butler and Mrs Darling drifted behind her, eyes scanning every inch of the house and grounds. The interior is just as grand as the exterior, but Wendy doesn't allow herself to dwell on any of it. She is just here to please her mother. That is it. They are soon walking outside again, this time at the rear of the house and Wendy holds back a snort. _This is hardly a rose garden._

Facing the trees that surrounded the mansion were three iron benches and a small table. The pre-mentioned rose garden was more of a rose bush to the left of one of the benches.

Wendy spots two figures on the bench furthest from the rose bush and Wendy quickly labelled them as Mrs Graham and Isaac. They both rise from their chairs upon seeing Mrs Darling and herself, and Wendy felt more than saw her mother tense even further.

"Good afternoon." Mrs Graham greets them both as they move to stand next to them and the butler nods before quickly bustling back to the house. Her critical eyes take in Wendy's pudding appearance and they narrow almost imperceptibly. Wendy focuses on Isaac instead, not wanting to see her disapproval and was met with a very amused smirk. Wendy can't tell what is worse.

"Good afternoon to you! We can't thank you enough for your invitation to come here. You have a... a breath-taking home." Mrs Darling says.

"You're too kind." Mrs Graham mutters, already sounding disinterested. "Join us." She says, already taking her own seat. Wendy and her mother sit at the bench facing the Graham's and Wendy finds herself looking anywhere but at her hosts.

"So… lovely weather we're having today, isn't it? We've been very fortunate." Mrs Darling begins.

"Indeed. It's why I decided we should sit outside." Mrs Graham says. Her tone indicates that she wishes for that to be the last mention of weather. It is silent for another few moments. Wendy leans forward, helping herself to the tea that was displayed lavishly.

"Isaac, doesn't my Wendy look absolutely dashing? I chose the dress myself. I think it suits her."

Wendy couldn't help but look at Isaac now. He meets her gaze, smirking. She lifts the tea to her mouth, trying to give her hands something to do.

"She looks…" He pauses, trying to find the right word and smiled. "Delicious."

Wendy spits out her tea. Mrs Graham's head snaps towards Isaac in disapproval, which he ignores. He seems too intent on watching Wendy try to inconspicuously hide the tea stain. However, the dress's blinding yellow doesn't allow that to happen. Wendy frowns down at the stain before remembering that she hates this dress and doesn't care what happens to it. Mrs Darling tries to continue.

"Umm… yes she looks… lovely. Just lovely. You also look dashing, Isaac."

He simply nods, still trying to catch Wendy's eyes, which she was studiously ignoring. He takes little notice of Mrs Darling's compliment, clearly used to them.

"Would you like to walk about the grounds with me, Wendy?" Her gaze snap to meet his and the corner of his mouth turns up, satisfied.

"Isaac." Mrs Graham warns.

"We'll stay where you can see us, mother." He says dismissively. He stands and holds his hand out for her to take.

Wendy looks to her mother, unsure of what to do. His deep voice causes her to look at him again.

"Come…" He says. His eyes daring her.

"Very well." She replies and takes his hand.

 **Please review! Next chapter will be out soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five:

Wendy takes Isaac's hand and he helps her rise from her chair. His hands are soft and un-calloused; the hands of privilege. She resists the urge to smooth her dress as she is unused to the scrutiny of not just one, but two watchful mothers. She does not meet her mother's eyes as they begin their stroll and Wendy can feel both of their eyes drilling through her back. _This will hardly be a private walk, what could he possibly want to talk about?_ She glances at Isaac, but he is looking ahead towards the trees that surround the garden. Their pace is slow as they continue not to speak.

Wendy inhales the pleasant scent of nature and smiles unconsciously. Her mind drifts to simpler times with her siblings. When notions of growing up were in the distant future, where playing hide and seek was not seen as trivial or degrading by her parents. Michael trying to fit into a rabbit den and getting so wedged inside that Wendy had soaked her dress entirely in mud trying to pull him out. Mrs Darling had merely shaken her head in disapproval. Wendy did not want to comprehend what fate would befall her now if she decided to go galivanting into the forest and returning covered in mud.

"I have to say, I wasn't sure what to expect from this afternoon. But seeing you dressed as a lemon meringue pie has certainly exceeded all my expectations."

She tries to glare at him for the comment. But he is completely right, the dress was truly ridiculous, and Wendy can't help the snort that breaks free. She then bursts into un-lady like laughter and shakes her head. Isaac seems surprised by her reaction, as if he wasn't expecting her to take his jibe well.

"I know!" She laughs again. "I tried to convince her that there were going to plenty of cakes being served with tea, I don't need to become one of them." She says, still giggling as a tear breaks free from the corner of her eye. The corner of Isaac's mouth twitches, before breaking into the first genuine smile that Wendy has seen from him. It isn't as perfect as the rest of him; the left side is slightly crooked and his blue eyes crease more than usual. But it makes him far more human and she can't help but find it endearing.

"You should have told me that we were dressing as delicious treats, I have been told that I would make an excellent carrot cake." He says, and Wendy's body begins to shake and she struggles not to snort again. She can't help but picture what that costume would entail.

"You'll just have to put your bright orange tailcoat in the wardrobe until next time." He grins at her and she grins back. They stand there foolishly for a moment. They are about twenty feet from their mothers now and Wendy notices a large rope hanging down from a branch that was not visible from where they were before. At the bottom of the rope is a wooden seat and she realises that it's a swing. She grabs his wrist and drags him in the direction of it, surprising him, and he stumbles in a very un-Isaac like manner.

"Come on." She insists impatiently, smiling in excitement. Her own garden did not have a tree big enough to hold a swing and she had always felt jealous of other children who had one.

They reach it and Wendy immediately plonks herself down on the seat, not thinking to check if it is wet or dirty. She backs up and kicks off the ground to begin swinging. Happiness overwhelms her as the wind brushes against her skin and tangles in her hair. She forgets where she is, why she's here, and who she is meant to be impressing and just looses herself in the feeling of exhilaration. This is what she misses about being a child; the carelessness, the fun. _I still am a child_. She thinks stubbornly to herself. _I don't want a husband, or children, or a house. I just want to be like this._ But she remembers her mother's insistence that she must make a good impression and she looks to Isaac who is leaning against the tree staring at her. When their eyes meet, he quickly looks away from her with a small frown on his face. She slams her feet on the ground to stop herself swinging more and wipes her windswept hair from her face.

"Your turn!" She announces and gets up from the wooden swing. She grins at him and gestures for him to sit. Isaac gapes at her, before collecting himself.

"I think not. I cannot believe you even did that." He says shaking his head and Wendy can't help but note a bit of wonder in his voice. _When was the last time he played?_

"Nonsense. I insist. I'll even push you if you'd like." Wendy takes his arm and gently leads him to the swing. He didn't fight her, just let himself be led by her; like a horse into a paddle. Or a lamb to slaughter. "It'll be fun! When was the last time you let yourself have fun?"

She doesn't actually expect an answer, but Isaac quietly mumbles "I couldn't even tell you." He huffs out a breath of air and looks at her, vulnerability in his gaze. Wendy becomes aware of their close vicinity and that she is still clutching onto his arm. She steps back quickly and gives him a shove; he stumbles onto the seat, hands only just clinging onto the rope before to stop himself falling off. She moves behind him, pretending that her cheeks aren't bright red and that her heart isn't thumping rapidly in her chest.

"Here we go." She pulls him back a little before slipping on the mud at her feet. She tries again, but he is much heavier than Michael or George would have been if she were pushing them.

"Are you alright there?" He turns and raises an eyebrow at her.

"You're heavy!" She grumbles and repeats her efforts, only to fail again. "You could help, you know."

"I thought you were going to push me?" He remarks. Wendy almost growls and gives him the biggest shove she can muster to push him into air. He gently swings back and forth, and Wendy puts her hands on her hips, proud of herself.

"Is that it?" Isaac says, ruining it. But his sweet smile sweetens the blow, it was a similar one to earlier, but somehow gentler. His blue eyes seem to twinkle mischievously. Wendy finds herself returning his smile with a shy one of her own.

"What on earth is this? Mr Graham, return to your mother immediately."

Wendy spins around and sees the same gentleman who had opened the door for her at the front of the house; the butler. She wasn't too distracted by their luxurious house to notice his appearance this time. He was a portly man, with a round belly that strained the shirt he was wearing. His groomed moustache and uptight expression screamed self-importance and snobbery. Wendy immediately dislikes him.

"We're coming now." Isaac says, standing next to her and acting as if he hadn't been sat on a dirty swing just a moment ago. When the butler does not move, Isaac's eyes narrow and he spits out "be on your way, Charles. Now."

Charles huffs and shuffles back towards the house.

Isaac glances at Wendy and all traces of the boy on the swing was gone. The arrogant smirk was back.

"Let's be on our way then, Miss Wendy." And without meeting her eyes or waiting for her, he heads back.


End file.
